


Trusting the FBI (A Very Fornell Sequel)

by findinghero



Series: Horoshee Malchek [3]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Family, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 01:32:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10205864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/findinghero/pseuds/findinghero
Summary: A Very Fornell Sequel to Horoshee Malchek and Fulcrum. After the events of Fulcrum, Gibbs works towards arrangements that may help allow Tim to remain in law enforcement.





	

Fornell’s footsteps weigh heavily on the basement stairs, not because he’s actually concerned about why Gibbs has called him to his basement tonight—of that Gibbs is certain. Rather, Tobias is likely irritated at the summons and milking his annoyance for all it’s worth.

 

Gibbs empties out the mason jar filled with screws, fills it and his own glass with two fingers of bourbon, knowing they’re both going to need it by the time this conversation is through. Tobias looks over the whiskey as soon as he reaches Gibbs’ workbench. Then he looks Gibbs over.

 

He narrow his eyes and glares, “So what’s so important that you had to call me over here in the middle of the night, Gibbs?”

 

Gibbs lifts his glass and motions to the extra stool he brought downstairs for this conversation. After a quick sip, he points out, “Wouldn’t have been the middle of the night if you’d come when I’d called, Tobias.”

 

Fornell rolls his eyes but accepts the proffered chair, along with the shot of liquor. “You said it wasn’t life threatening,” he pokes back, “and,” he hesitates, careful not to be hurtful when he says, “Emily has a project due at the end of the week in her sociology class. She wanted to interview me about my job.” More quietly he adds, “I think she’s considering criminology as her major next year.”

 

Gibbs feels the light smile rise and fall on his face. It’s always bittersweet to hear the proud details about someone else’s kids, but it’s easier now that he once again has some of his own. “Between you and Diane,” he offers back, willingly fueling Tobias’ pride, “Emily’s already learned a good bit about criminal investigation from your talks around the dinner table.”

 

Tentatively, Tobias smiles back, careful as always with Gibbs when he speaks of his child. He nods, “She has. A part of me would rather see her pursue criminal tax investigation like her mother, but I have to admit, there’s a part of me that would like to see her in the FBI.”

 

Gibbs looks back to his drink, tips it this way and that to see the small waves in the amber liquid. “Must feel good when your kids follow you in your footsteps,” Gibbs’ mind goes to his team as it always does when he considers his own legacy. His thoughts usually linger on Ziva the most at times like this because he knows how much his influence has changed her path in life. He tries not to wonder who his kids might have been if he’d never met them, no use in lingering over might have beens, after all. In the last couple of weeks, though, Tim’s definitely become the kid most prominently on his mind.

 

“Sometimes,” Gibbs sets his glass back down on the table and looks at Tobias to begin anew, “It’s the parent who follows his kid.”

 

Grabbing for his own glass, Fornell keeps his gaze away from Gibbs, and bites his lip. When he takes a deep shot, Gibbs abruptly realizes that Tobias believes Gibbs asked him over here tonight for a wholly different reason.

 

Gibbs clears his throat and twists a little on his seat to more fully face his friend, already working to push both their minds away from Gibbs’ lost child. “Nikolai Markov,” Gibbs offers the name starkly.

 

Tobias blinks, setting his hand back on the table where it still holds the mason jar. His surprise doesn’t linger. He immediately squints at Gibbs, ready to move this conversation on to the job and to less hurtful ground.

 

“Chicago mob boss since the 80s,” Fornell grabs onto the ready information inside his mind. “He’s gotten quieter and the Windy City’s had fewer violent altercations with organized crime even though street violence has increased due to the minimalizing of city resources because of their damn mayor.”

 

Gibbs nods, rubs his tongue over his teeth. “What else do you know about him?” he pushes.

 

Fornell keeps his squint and heavily releases his glass back onto the table, sloshing it but not spilling it. “His wife and son went missing over twenty years ago,” the words are bare, direct. “They were never found.”

 

Gibbs waits a long moment, letting the silence stretch between them, “Anything else?” he raises a brow as he pushes for details of Markov’s family.

 

Tobias takes a long breath, but finally allows, “By all accounts Markov was devastated by their disappearance. Even given his reputation, the FBI never seriously considered him a suspect in any sort of foul play. The investigators believed Natalya Markov took her son and left.”

 

Gibbs nods and looks back to his drink. He knows he has Tim’s permission to go ahead with this conversation. He even has Nikolai Markov’s blessing to begin this negotiation with the FBI. However, even though it’s only Tobias at this point, and even though Gibbs trusts his friend with his life and the lives of his kids, trusting the FBI with Tim’s reputation feels like another thing entirely. “It changes a man,” Gibbs says softly, needing Tobias to hear the weight of his words, the import of them, “to lose a child.”

 

“Gibbs—” Tobias begins, not ready to go anywhere else with his interruption, but seemingly not sure if the conversation should continue in this vein.

 

“How much more do you think it might change a man to regain his lost child?” the words don’t hurt Gibbs like they might have at one point, but they still burn like cheap bourbon.

 

Tobias grabs his arm, immediately causing Gibbs to meet his eye. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Fornell blinks and suddenly there’s a bit of glee shining through his eyes. “Did you really find Anatoli Markov?”

 

Gibbs blinks away, doesn’t quite nod, but he doesn’t need to for Tobias to understand.

 

Fornell stands, quickly taking a shot before setting the glass back down and grinning. “This is incredible, Gibbs!” He shakes his head. “The Bureau’s going to go nuts! Imagine the kind of leverage we’ll have on Markov once he knows we have his kid!”

 

“Tobias,” Gibbs gently rebukes.

 

“Hey, hey,” Fornell puts up both hands, disarmingly, “I’m not saying that NCIS won’t take full credit for any sort of negotiations you have with Markov, but obviously you want me involved on the FBI end of things if you’re coming to me now and not tomorrow morning at NCIS headquarters!”  Fornell rubs his hands together, “Markov might even give up the whole _Bratva_ for the chance to see his son again!”

 

Gibbs nods, watching Tobias get ahead of himself, “He already is, Tobias,” the calm words immediately irritate Fornell.

 

“Come on!” his friend blasts back. “There’s no way you brought me here to gloat about breaking Nikolai Markov!” he points out correctly. “Maybe if we’d been fighting over the case before,” he continues, also correctly, “but you wouldn’t just randomly bring me over here to tell me you’ve won one over on the FBI.”

 

“No, I wouldn’t,” Gibbs allows. “I brought you over because I know Toli Markov.”

 

Fornell pauses and watches Gibbs. “You _know_ him?”

 

“Personally,” Gibbs levels his gaze, “And so do you.”

 

Fornell goes silent and sits back down, doesn’t take his eyes off Gibbs. Gibbs watches him back, waiting for Tobias’ concession, knowing it will come from his friend. “Okay,” Fornell says finally. “I will do everything in my power to ensure Toli Markov’s protection from his father.”

 

Gibbs shakes his head, “He doesn’t need protection from his father, and he won’t need protection from the _Bratva_.”

 

Tobias goes back to squinting at him. “You’re saying he needs protection from the FBI,” the words are flat.

 

“Not just the FBI,” Gibbs concedes, knowing that if Tim has any shot whatsoever of remaining in law enforcement, he needs as much high ranking and widespread support and confidence in his integrity as an officer of the law as possible. Gibbs feels his stomach twist, thinks of the machine that Tim placed in this room just over an hour ago to ensure this conversation stays private between him and Fornell—for now, at least. Tobias has the ability to help Tim with this, and he likes Tim—always has—so Gibbs is fairly certain that he’ll even want to help once he knows, “Toli Markov is a federal agent.”

 

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Tobias’ eyes go wide. He leans forward on the stool and gets into Gibbs’ face. “There’s no way a mole for organized—”

 

His head jerks to Tobias at the slur, which instantly shuts him up. It only lasts briefly, “Jesus, he’s one of _yours_ , Jethro!” It should be a question, but it’s not. “It would have to be someone you’ve known for a long time,” Tobias streams his thoughts aloud. “Someone you trust without question, whom you think _I_ would trust without evidence, which only leav—” Fornell cuts himself off, and Gibbs knows it’s because the only two candidates his friend can come up with are Tim and Tony, and Tobias has had the displeasure of meeting Senior more than once. His gaze shoots downward and left, while his mouth pinches shut. Tobias shakes his head, having come to a conclusion he can’t yet believe, and Gibbs knows Tobias is picturing Tim in his head, trying to look back and see some sort of clue—any kind of indication of who Tim was before he became McGee. Gibbs knows just as surely that there isn’t anything Tobias might point to that could ever implicate Tim in anything unsavory.

 

Tobias licks his lips, seeming, all of a sudden, to be sitting more heavily in his chair. “What does your boy say about all this?”

 

“He’s still a kid who misses his dad,” Gibbs leans a little towards Fornell. “The real question you need to ask is what does Nikolai Markov have to say about all this?”

 

Tobias breathes slowly and jerks his chin in Gibbs’ direction, bidding the answer to the question he’s posed.

 

“He’s retiring.”

 

Tobias lifts a brow, “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

 

Gibbs feels a tiny smile jerk at the corners of his mouth. “There’s a café across the street from an Orthodox Church. Nikolai Markov and his sons are requesting to meet with an emissary of the FBI in order to offer concessions.”

 

“Sons?” Tobias immediately notes the plural.

 

Gibbs nods and then points out once more, “Concessions.”

 

“When?” the word comes after a long silence.

 

“Now, if you want.”

 

Immediately, Tobias stands, and Gibbs follows. Half a second later, the FBI agent pauses. “Is McGee really ready for this? Does he have any idea—”

 

Gibbs nods an interruption. “He’s always known.” Gibbs shrugs his shoulder. “He’s still just a kid who misses his dad,” Gibbs repeats. “What’s really going to make this work, though, is that Nikolai Markov is a father who just got back his son.”

 

THE END


End file.
